


HOME - MEGSTIEL CHRISTMAS OS

by JohnConstantine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnConstantine/pseuds/JohnConstantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and Meg find themselves alone in the bunker on Christmas eve. With another angel’s power proving difficult to control Castiel seeks out Meg’s aid in stress release. Happy Holidays everyone!~ (Not even really Christmas stuff, just a bit o’ smut, my gift to all of you)</p>
            </blockquote>





	HOME - MEGSTIEL CHRISTMAS OS

**Author's Note:**

> *Warning: may contain season 9 spoilers*

 

It was strange, the feeling of power after being human for so very long. That familiar crackle of grace that had once made him so powerful before had come crashing through him like a tidal wave, and even the fresh rain smell that accompanied it wasn’t enough to convince him that he was once again an angel.

Theo’s power was weak. Nothing like his true grace would feel but it was enough to at least keep Castiel on the run. With the angels reforming and with Gadreel expelled from Sam Winchester, the end of the year seemed to be calmer, which was a relief that had even made Castiel relax.

Playing with his stolen power in the common room had become a favorite past time, seeing what he could and could not do, what the fall had done to the other seraph’s powers. Very little was available to him, his strength, slight telekenisis and pyrokenisis remained, and his healing factor was sluggish, but overall he was still powerful and strong.

Maybe that’s why it seemed like it was time to find her. Sam and Dean had thought her dead but when the frightened prayed touched his mind he charged down for her, fractured grace weakened at the barrier of Hell but his determination pulled through.

In an odd parody of their last meeting Castiel had stayed with her to clean her wounds. Sam and Dean had gone out, Dean getting a bit stir crazy when the last heavy snow storm had kept him locked inside the bunker and Sam had gone with him to “wake up”, still not over his secret possession but eager to get away from the bunker.

And so they were alone, small talk and idle chitchat the only noise between angel and demon besides the massive generators and heaters filling the bunker warm and making it more comfortable as the temperature outside slowly dropped.

Meg looked the same as always, the blonde dye in her hair almost washed out and one of her eyes were still swollen shut, but overall she was a welcome face, and with so many of Castiel’s allies falling, having her around was a bit of comfort. 

"How are your wounds?" he asked when the sudden silence became too uncomfortable.

He watched her slowly flick her wrist around, ignoring the heavy burns that seemed to decorate her arms. “Had worse. Nothing I can’t heal.”

"May I?" he held out his hand, surprised when she actually gave him her hand after a few moments consideration. He could feel her trust, something the demon did not give away freely and he almost shuddered. "I haven’t had a chance to see if I could still heal."

"What, Bullwinkle didn’t want you to touch him? Even after everything?"

"Sam his…trust, is exasperated. He’s having a hard time even trusting me, even more than his brother. I can understand, especially with an angel like Gadreel. Being a vessel, especially against your consent can be…tramatic."

"Moose actually using his head for once, huh?"

"Mmm," Castiel muttered, pulling his sluggish grace forward on her wounds, feeling her darkness nip at him in return. "Though I wouldn’t put it past them to skip the holidays."

"Every had a holiday Clarence? Just ignore all the angels and humans and demons for one fucking day?"

"No," She watched his eyes squint as he focused more grace to her burns. "Never saw the need to."

"Really"?

"What would the point of it be?" he muttered through teeth full of gauze. "I’m an angel of the lord. I have no need to celebrate religion. I am religion."

"And so full of yourself."

"Angel celebrating Christmas. With a demon no less. The amount of blasphemy… "

Meg was about to roll her eyes, already annoyed with his self righteous attitude until she noticed that sparkle in his eye he got when he was trying to make a joke. 

"Would be a nice way to -as Dean says- say ‘fuck you’ to God wouldn’t it?" he added.

"Look at you, all angry and rebellious. Next you’ll want to have sex with me."

"The thought did occur to me, but I feared for your wounds."

"Someone’s being a bit forward."

Castiel shrugged. “We’re alone. Dean has memory foam. And I’ve realized what you meant by moving furniture. It would be a way to pass the time. If you are still interested, of course.”

Meg raised an eyebrow. “You really want that?”

"I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t."

There was a bit of silence, almost enough so that Castiel started to think that he’d set the demon off, Watching her lean forward.

"Can you keep up, seraph?"

She felt his grace crack from the challenge as he lowered his face to hers. “I think you forget at time what I am, Meg. I wouldn’t have asked if I couldn’t do it.”

When they kissed Meg could feel his grace cradle around her, almost as if it was at first fighting her. With effort she felt Castiel calm and she melted into the taste of rain and ozone.

"Memory foam huh?"

"I slept on it once," he felt her tongue touch his scruffy jaw. "it’s…nice."

"You have no problems fucking on your best friend’s bed on Christmas eve?"

"Dean owes me."

He felt her lips again and moaned when she flicked her tongue against his, the invite obvious and without pulling apart he slid her down the couch, keeping her under him. “Or we could stay here. Either way…”

"You’re gonna make this happen."

"I’d hoped so."

"I’m feeling lazy," she muttered, feeling Castiel touch her and had to wonder where he’d learned all of this. "Merry Christmas Clarence."

He didn’t reply, just continued to tear off her clothes and listen to the soft noises she made when he slid inside her.

Merry Christmas indeed.


End file.
